Maura was careful not to wake Jane when she got up early Saturday morning. It was their first day off since that fight almost a week ago and Maura had a lot to do. She pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans and one of Jane's V-necks, and quietly closed the bedroom door behind her. She had been planning this morning all week and she wasn't going to let a little noise ruin the surprise.

Once they hugged in that exam room, it had seemed as though nothing could separate them. They held each other's hands, fingers entwined, through the questions and the physical exam, only breaking contact long enough for Jane to get dressed when the appointment was over. It was, Maura had thought, what being a real couple must be like. She'd had relationships before, but none where she was so emotionally attached as to need that constant physical contact. With Jane that day, her stomach lurched when she had to let go and turn around while Jane dressed. From the urgent way Jane took her hand again when she was ready to leave, Maura concluded that Jane felt the same. She had wondered if the feeling would last, or if it was just them making up for time lost the night before.

The spell was broken, of course, when they walked into the station that afternoon. Both women knew, on some level, that there was a limit to how affectionate they could be in public, even if it was just affection between best friends. People wouldn't understand. Maura and Jane didn't have to discuss this fact, they both just knew, when they got out of the car, that the time for holding hands was over. One last squeeze would need to last the rest of the day, at least until they got home.

Work that day was nothing out of the ordinary, but then Maura enjoyed doing autopsies precisely because they were routine. The deceased were examined not only for cause of death and evidence that would be useful in solving their murder, but also for scars, lesions, and any physical attribute that might be useful in understanding who this person was while they were alive. Long nails or short, calluses, muscle mass, occupational markers, dental health—everything was essential. And those were just a few aspects of the preliminary physical exam. Inside the body were literally layers upon layers of data to be gathered. With as many autopsies as Maura had performed, she had become expert in noticing and interpreting even the smallest or most obscure of details. It was why she was the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Maura approached life much like she did autopsies. The methodical examination of every detail, she had found, was the best way to build a complete picture of a situation, to fully understand it. Even after Jane had apologized, their argument had bothered Maura. Aspects of it didn't make sense, and she found herself mentally examining the event. When they had fallen asleep that night, Jane had been fine. She had complained about people at work treating her differently, but it was more of a complaint than emotional distress. After the dream, Jane was visibly disturbed, and couldn't articulate why. When Maura tried to help, Jane had shrugged her off, clearly irritated.

Perhaps the content of the dream was what bothered Jane. Maura could see, logically, why the idea of shooting a tortoise would be troubling, especially if that tortoise were one's offspring. But Maura's suggestion—that the dream meant she was worried about the baby—didn't seem to help at all. On some level, their fight wasn't even about the dream, it was about them.

Jane had said she didn't know why she acted the way she did. She admitted it was inappropriate and seemed to be cognizant of that even during the argument. Maura knew that elevated hormone levels during pregnancy could cause mood swings, but the books said that usually eased during the second trimester. Regardless of whether hormones were involved, there was clearly some underlying issue that was magnified that night.

A possible answer came to Maura when she visited the bullpen. Jane was in the restroom, Frost had reported, "Said she needed a little 'Jane time.'" Indeed, Jane didn't have a private office like Maura did. And as comfortable as she had made herself in Maura's home (leaving her dirty socks in the living room, for example), it was still Maura's home. Jane had no personal space, anywhere. She was even sharing her own body.

And so the planning had begun.

Jane woke up cold that Saturday morning. Eyes still closed, she groped around the space to her right and found it empty of the soft warmth she had grown accustomed to. She groaned. Great, now she would have to get out of bed to say good morning to Maura. They had just solved a difficult case that had been keeping Jane up late; no doubt Maura had wanted to let Jane sleep in.

But sleeping in just didn't sound as good without Maura. Jane grabbed Maura's pillow and hugged it, trying to recreate the comfort. She wished they could spend all day sleeping in together. Jane would be able to smell Maura's left-over perfume on her neck. Maura might just mold herself into Jane, that silky nightgown bunching up at her hip... The thought alone warmed her.

Jane flopped back over and looked at the door. It was closed. She listened for noises. There were none. No kitchen noises, no bathroom noises, no walking around, no television. Maybe she was alone in the house. She closed her eyes again and hugged the pillow tighter. It was ok, soft, but... It just wasn't the same. Only Maura would do.

Jane smiled to herself, thinking what it would be like if Maura were there with her. She'd smile languidly over her shoulder and drag her toes up and down Jane's shin, inadvertently massaging the sore muscle. She might try to get up and do something productive, but Jane would keep her there, one arm around her waist. They'd laugh and Maura would accept her fate: she was stuck with Jane. Stuck in their little heaven where time stood still and everything stayed good, most of the time, anyway.

Jane was determined not to let herself get out of control like she did that night. She didn't remember the words she spoke, just the feeling, the intention to cause pain. She was supposed to be Maura's family, her protector, and that night she had turned into the bad guy. Maura would say it was her hormones, and give some long scientific excuse, but hormones or not, it was still Jane's fault. She was an adult and she should be able to act like one, to have enough control over her emotions that she didn't have to hurt her best friend.

She'd had a few dreams since then. They weren't as bad. She could handle them on her own. Most of the time, the baby was a turtle. Or a tortoise. Whatever. One time it was Simba from The Lion King. She had held it up to the sky and all the other animals bowed down. She told Maura about that one, but not the others. And then they had to watch The Lion King, because somehow Maura had missed that one when she was away at boarding school. That was the kind of friend Jane wanted to be to Maura, the kind who introduced her to classic children's movies and kept her in bed until noon on a Saturday just doing nothing. The kind who didn't burden her with worrisome dreams or questions like, 'What if our kid comes out with a shell?' Jane wanted to give Maura only good things. That's what she deserved. That's what she did for Jane.

Sometimes it felt like the sun shone from Maura's smile. She'd walk into a room and suddenly everything was better. Jane would be in the bullpen, trying to focus on that case, but distracted by other things. Was she hungry again, so soon? Why couldn't she take a real pain reliever instead of stupid Tylenol? When should they start thinking of names? What if she forgets to feed the baby and it starves? What if she can't feed the baby, like nothing comes out? Is SIDS a real thing? They have to find a good school. And start a college fund. Shit, college was going to be expensive.—Maura would walk in, smiling like nobody's business, and Jane's mind would go blank. Jane could practically see all the questions and to-do lists fall to the floor, ground to dust by Maura's peep-toes. She'd bring with her a new piece of evidence and an apple for Jane, she'd sit for a few minutes, and Jane could think clearly again.

It was the hormones, Jane assured herself. Maura had warned her that there would be mood swings. The worrying and inability to focus probably came with that. The worst was the crying. Jane was always quick enough to be able to retreat to the restroom before anybody noticed, but there were one or two times when she couldn't even figure out why she was crying. She felt like such an idiot. And sure enough, when she emerged from the restroom with puffy eyes, Frost looked at her like she was an alien. One good glare, though, and he shut his trap. A few more snarky remarks and some well-placed attitude had put the rest of the precinct in line. Jane was proud that even in maternity slacks, she was able to intimidate those guys. Apparently the combination of elevated hormones and a loaded firearm was more than they wanted to mess with.

Jane rolled over onto her back and put her hands behind her head and yawned, finally beginning to wake up. She had almost accepted that there would be no snuggling this morning when the doorbell rang and she heard Maura's footsteps answer it. Next there was some conversation and commotion. But instead of going to investigate, Jane plucked her phone off the nightstand and composed a text message, 'where did u go?'

Not two minutes later, Maura was back in Jane's arms, laughing and smiling and brightening up the room. Satisfied to have Maura back in her rightful place, Jane asked, "What's going on out there? Sounds like you're having a party without me."

Maura immediately flustered, obviously trying to think of a way to answer without actually answering. She found it, "That would be difficult; you're the life of any party." Oh, that smile.

"What is it then? You'd better tell me, I know when you're keeping secrets." Jane lightly patted Maura's collarbone, where hives were just starting to peek out.

Maura shook her head, refusing to tell. "It's a surprise, Jane, just give us a few more minutes to set it up. How about I bring you some breakfast and when you've eaten you can come see?"

"I'd rather have you than breakfast."

"Maybe you can have both."

Half an hour later, Maura led Jane into her home office, eyes closed. "Surprise!" Jane opened her eyes to see Tommy and Frankie standing back, smiling. The desk, file cabinets, and bookshelves had been moved out and replaced with mats and free weights from Jane's old apartment. All her workout gear was here, plus some new stuff, and her punching bag dummy was front and center.

Maura explained, "I don't need to work at home. And I thought you could use some space of your own. What do you think of your new workout room?" She smiled grandly and held her arms out like a Ford spokesmodel.

Jane immediately began to cry. One hand covered her mouth, the other found Maura's hand and squeezed it. She didn't know why, but she was overwhelmed with emotion. Her brothers looked scared and Maura looked worried, so she tried to reassure them, "I'm sorry, I love it. I love it. Thank you."

"Hey, uh, Janie," Frankie tried, "It's no big deal, I just needed the extra space." Frankie had moved into Jane's apartment and wanted to use the alcove there for storage. He tentatively patted her arm. Jane just nodded and sniffled.

Tommy looked scared. "Yeah... Maybe we should go." He started moving toward the door, edging around the wall so as not to get too close to Jane. But she stopped him and gave both brothers a hug before they left. Maura thanked them and offered Jane her shoulder.

When she had mostly recovered, Jane's face turned to suspicion. "Is this a trick to get me to do baby yoga or something?"

"Prenatal yoga would be an excellent use for this room, but only if you want that. This is your room; nobody else allowed without your permission."

Jane couldn't wait to use her new workout room. That afternoon, she tied her hair back and taped up her hands for a little quality time with her punching bag man. Only a few minutes in, she decided it was too quiet and turned on some music. It helped for a little while, but she just didn't have any pent-up aggression to work through. She was bored.

Likewise, Maura was in the living room, paging through the latest Journal of Forensic Medicine and Pathology, trying not to think about Jane in the other room. That was her space and Maura wasn't going to invade it, no matter how much she wanted to. Of course, if she were invited, that would be different. Maura tossed the journal on the coffee table and stood, casually smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt. She strolled down the hallway past Jane's workout room, but didn't look in through the cracked door. She paused at the end of the hallway, straightened the towels in the bathroom, then casually strolled back...

"Maura?" Jane opened the door all the way and called after her.

"Oh, I didn't mean to bother you, I was just..." She had no honest way to finish that sentence. And she couldn't have, either, as her eyes wandered down. There was a drop of sweat forming below Jane's collarbone, and her chest lifted with each breath. Maura licked her lips.

"Just... what? Huh?" Jane's chin lifted as she smiled, obviously catching her friend in the almost-lie. "C'mon," she tapped Maura on the arm, "keep me company." She turned down the music and went back to her punching bag. Maura took a seat on the exercise ball, bouncing just a little.

Jane did a double-take. "Ok, you can't be in here if you're going to bounce like that."

"Why not?" The bouncing continued.

"Seriously, Maura, it's distracting."

"Oh." Bouncing stopped.

Jane threw a few more punches. Maura tried not to be distracting and studied Jane's stance. Left leg forward, her hips twisted slightly as she threw a left jab, then her shoulders twisted in the opposite direction for a right cross. She was wearing those little running shorts that made her legs look like they went on forever. Maura's fingers played on her lips.

"I was thinking," Jane started between punches, "we're going to need a room for the baby, too." She looked over her shoulder at Maura, whose head popped up.

"What? Oh, yes," Maura nodded, "a room for the baby, of course." The shorts were slung low around Jane's hips, and Maura could see the growing baby bump between the waistband and Jane's sports bra. She would have to take a photograph of Jane like this. She looked beautiful and happy. Maura decided that her diagnosis of needing personal space was correct. Jane shifted around the bag a little and Maura rolled the ball to the side a bit so she could see more of Jane's... face... while she worked out. "I was thinking we could use the guest room."

"Yeah, that'll be good." Jane switched to alternating left and right hooks. "We could decorate it, y'know? Get a crib and a changing table and everything."

"I can call my decorator and have her come up with some ideas," Maura offered, finally paying attention to the conversation.

"Well," Jane paused her punches and tapped her knuckles together. "I think I want us to do it. Or, you don't have to help if you don't want to. Paint and stuff."

Maura scoffed, "You think I'm afraid of a little paint, Jane Rizzoli? I'm the Chief Medi—"

Jane laughed and held up her hands in contrition. "Alright, alright, I'll believe it when I see it, Ethan Allen."

"The revolutionary war hero?"

"What? No, the—nevermind." Jane shook her head and laughed. Maura smiled and started bouncing again.

A/N: I couldn't have muddled through this chapter without the help of living-on-borrowed-crime, nor without your continued support. I needed some fluff after the last chapter, I hope you liked this one as much. I'm going away for the weekend, so the next chapter will probably take a little longer to update. If you spend the interval thinking about Jane throwing punches and Maura bouncing on that exercise ball, it won't be time wasted.